


Speed Me Up (Or Slow Me)

by orphan_account



Category: Big Time Rush RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Explicit Language, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:05:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James nips at Logan’s earlobe, traces the shell of it with his tongue then whispers, “Speed me up or slow me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speed Me Up (Or Slow Me)

Recording _Show Me_ is probably one of the worst moments of Logan’s life. Like, it’s horrible. Not the song itself because it’s actually insanely catchy and the beat is fucking awesome. It’s just -- the lyrics. The way they’re dripping with sex is just. God. And aside from the whole _guys like me like girls like you_ line, it’s probably one of his favorite songs from the album.

Anyway. Recording it really sucks out loud. 

When they get the rough version recorded, they’re all sitting together to listen it, to pick out parts that they think need more work or could be done a little differently and Logan’s so fucking distracted listening to James’ part and picking out James’ voice throughout the whole thing that it’s really no surprise when he ends up hard. Seriously. Who the fuck wrote these lyrics? Who the fuck thought it was a good idea that they should sing this song? Because it’s not a good idea, at all.

They cannot be done with this session soon enough.

\--

Hours later, even though it feels like a million years later, they’re finally calling it a night, even though it’s edging somewhere close to almost 1 in the morning. It’s all kinds of sucktastic that they drove their own cars to the studio because Logan needs to get James to his house right the fuck now and it’d look a little weird if James left his car at the studio and Logan’s so not up for answering questions about that right now.

Not that he doesn’t ever want to, just. Not now, not when he has more pressing issues to attend to.

Everyone’s more than ready to get home and for once Logan’s glad that none of them want to go out and do anything. He doesn’t have the mental capacity to think of anything other than home, bed, James, _now_.

As soon as he gets in his car, he pulls out his phone and taps out a quick message to James, _my apartment, now_.

James doesn’t reply, not that Logan expected him to, so he sets his phone into the dashboard mount, but when he pulls out of the studio lot, his phone rings, James’ name appearing on the screen.

There’s a quick surge of disappointment when Logan thinks James is calling to say he can’t make it, that he’s tired and he’s just going to go home to sleep, so it takes him a few seconds to answer, and when he does, he has to grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles go white because James’ greeting is, “You’re kind of cute, don’t hit the mute.”

“Dammit, James, shut up,” Logan says through clenched teeth, momentarily hating that James can read him so fucking easily.

James chuckles, low and throaty, and Logan can easily see the smirk he’s probably wearing.

“Nah, that’s alright. Just be glad I don’t have Kendall’s part, otherwise you’d really be in trouble,” James says, and much to Logan’s dismay, he starts fucking humming Kendall’s part and seriously, James needs to stop or Logan’s going to end up driving off the goddamn road.

“James,” Logan says, but it fails to come across as the warning he means it to be, instead sounds breathy and drawn out, almost a whine.

“Logan,” James says, tone mocking. _“I touch your skin, you’re tremblin’,”_ he sings after a moment, and that’s just not fair.

“Motherfuck.” Logan steps on the gas pedal, damn near flying down the road in his haste to get to his apartment as fast as he fucking can, hoping James is right behind him.

“Dude, slow down. If you get pulled over, that’s not gonna get us to your place any faster, is it? And I don’t think you want to get pulled over when you’re hard, do you?”

Of course James is right, so Logan eases off the gas pedal, dropping back down to a speed that’s likely not to get him pulled over.

“There, that’s better,” James says, and seriously, he’s being such a fucking tease because that? That is his sex voice, all slow and smooth like honey.

“James, c’mon,” Logan pleads, because he wants this to stop, needs it to stop for just a minute, just until they get to his apartment.

James hm’s like he’s contemplating something, and of course this entire thing is amusing to him. But Logan bets James is just as hard and just as turned on as he is.

“How you doin’, Logan?” James asks in that same voice, and wow, Logan’s seconds from coming in his pants.

“Just peachy, James,” Logan forces out, breathing a little easier when his street comes into view. He floors it then, speeding into his parking space, but no matter how fast he moves, it’s not fast enough.

“Hurry up,” he says, ending the call before shutting off the car and getting out, standing beside the driver’s side door as he waits for James to appear.

Minutes later, James finally arrives, moving as slow as he possibly can and it’s all Logan can do not to yank James in by the front of his sweatshirt and drag him along. It wouldn’t work too well anyway; James has so much more muscle than him.

“Someone’s eager,” James says with a laugh when he gets close.

“Oh, shut up,” Logan says, but he leads them inside quickly nonetheless, only stopping when he gets inside so they can toe off their shoes.

Then he really can’t move fast enough, pushing James up against the door and slotting their lips together, rough and eager, all lips and demanding tongue.

James laughs into it, but he fits his hands to Logan’s hips, pulling Logan flush against him as Logan licks into his mouth, making these tiny sounds that go straight to James’ dick.

Logan breaks away long enough to say, “Bedroom,” and then he’s pressing their lips together again, walking backwards in the direction of his room.

His hands slide under the layers - always so many layers - James is wearing, fingertips skimming over the toned planes of James’ stomach.

When his legs hit his bed, he falls back, pulling James down with him, sucking in a breath as James settles his weight on top of him and it’s fucking perfect, their hips lining up just right and he can’t stop his hips from rolling up against James’ or the moan that slips from his lips.

“Fuck yes,” he breathes out, gripping James’ hips harder as he rolls against him with more force. It’s even better when James grinds down against him and the rhythm that works itself out, their hips moving in tandem until Logan stops. “Wait, wait, don’t wanna come like this,” he says, grateful James can read between the lines because he’s quickly going up on his knees, shedding his hoodie and t-shirt, throwing them to the floor.

“C’mon, Logan, you need to lose some layers.” James grins down at him, hair a disheveled mess as he pushes his sweatpants down, and Logan can’t help but groan at the sight of James’ cock, hard and curving up towards his stomach.

That gets him moving, quickly pulling his t-shirt off and scrabbling out of his jeans and boxers, James more than happy to help pull them off the rest of the way.

James takes a moment to appreciate the view, Logan spread out in front of him, face and chest flushed. It makes his blood race through him, his breathing rough and ragged, and it’s like an electric shock when he gets his hands on all that skin, moving them up Logan’s stomach to his chest, brushing the pads of his thumbs over Logan’s nipples then dragging his hands back down, thumbing over the jut of his hipbones.

Logan groans at the sudden pressure of James’ thumbs in the hollows of his hips, knows it’s enough to leave bruises and fuck if that doesn’t make him shiver at the thought of James marking him up in places only they’ll know about.

The feeling intensifies with the wet drag of James’ tongue just below his belly button, teeth nipping a line to his hip where he fastens his lips around the peak of the bone and sucks, tracing the curve of it with his tongue.

Logan thrusts his hips up, trying to get James to move his mouth to where he wants it, needs it, gasping out a, “Fuck,” when his cock drags across the stubbled skin of James’ cheek.

“James, James, c’mon,” Logan begs, hips moving restlessly in search of friction.

“What do you want?” James asks, flicking his tongue over the quickly bruising skin of Logan’s hip.

“Your mouth, James, plea--” Logan starts, the words dying on his lips at the first touch of James’ tongue to the tip of his cock. “Oh god, oh god,” he babbles, hands fisted tight in the sheets beneath him.

James laughs, breathy and low, the warm gust of air washing over the spit slick tip. He lets go of one of Logan’s hips, wrapping his fist loosely around the base of Logan’s cock as he wraps his lips around the head, swirling his tongue around the crown before taking more in, hollowing his cheeks to increase the suction when he lets the length slide out.

Logan rolls his hips, trying to force more of himself into James’ mouth, nearly sobbing out a gasp when James just takes it, humming around him, the vibrations shooting from his cock through his whole body. He’s strung so tight with pleasure that he barely notices James sliding a finger into his mouth alongside him until the slick pad of it is brushing against the skin behind his balls, a teasing touch around the rim of his asshole.

With barely any force, James slides it in and Logan rocks back onto it, forcing it in deeper. James sucks at the head of Logan’s cock as he moves the finger in and out, tonguing at the slit to lick off the sticky glob of pre-come that oozes out.

James sucks hard one last time before pulling off, his finger slipping free from Logan’s body. 

“Lube?” he asks, rubbing at Logan’s hip as Logan points to the nightstand. He leans over Logan and fumbles in the drawer, pulling out the lube and a condom, dropping them beside Logan’s hip.

“Wait, roll over.”

Logan rolls over, situating himself on his hands and knees, craning his head back over his shoulder to watch James. James doesn’t give anything away, nudging Logan’s legs wider apart with his hands on the insides of Logan’s thighs.

He plasters his front along Logan’s back, his cock against the small of Logan’s back as he braces himself with one hand next to Logan’s, the other holding Logan’s chin as he licks into Logan’s mouth quick and dirty, tugging Logan’s bottom lip between his teeth before he releases it.

He rests his forehead against the sweat damp skin of Logan’s neck and then he’s moving down, lips trailing along the knobs of Logan’s spine to the dimples on his lower back, swiping over them with his tongue then trailing lower, stopping at the cleft of Logan’s ass.

Logan exhales a shuddery breath, dropping his head low between his shoulders, his arms threatening to give out.

There’s a moment where James doesn’t move, barely breathes, but then his tongue is sliding down Logan’s ass, both hands spreading Logan open. The first touch of his tongue is careful and tentative, Logan choking out James’ name, and then he grows bolder, licking in broad stripes over his hole, the skin shiny with spit.

Logan’s making these sounds, these breathy oh-oh’s with each inhale and exhale.

“Jesus, Logan,” James says, forehead against the small of Logan’s back. “So fucking hot,” he says, biting at the curve of Logan’s ass.

James goes up on his knees, fumbling with the lube as he gets his fingers slicked, dropping it back beside him. He spreads the slick around Logan’s hole then pushes in with two fingers, working them in and out until Logan relaxes around them. He quickly adds a third, waits until Logan starts fucking back against them before he starts thrusting them in and out, angling them in search of Logan’s prostate, smirking when he finds it and Logan’s back bows with the shocks of pleasure racing through him.

“Fucking – just fuck me already,” Logan grits out, fucking back forcefully on James’ fingers.

“Okay, okay,” James says, pushing against Logan’s prostate once more before sliding his fingers free and wiping them on the bed. He tears open the condom packet with his teeth, rolls it on and slicks himself up, nearly doubling over at the touch of his own hand on his neglected cock.

James situates himself between Logan’s spread legs, one hand on Logan’s hip, the other guiding his cock to Logan’s hole. He pushes in slow, stops when just the tip is inside, waits until Logan pushes back before he rolls his hips forward, sliding in inch by inch.

“M’not gonna break,” Logan says, rocking his hips back.

And that’s all it takes for James to move with purpose, gripping Logan’s hips tight as he fucks in hard, pulling his hips back and thrusting back in. He pulls out slow and thrusts in hard a few more times, then he places his hand flat against Logan’s stomach, pulls him up until Logan’s back is flush against his chest.

It’s so much better at this angle, every thrust of James’ cock sliding perfectly against Logan’s prostate and he has to reach back to grip James’ hips to keep himself upright.

James nips at Logan’s earlobe, traces the shell of it with his tongue then whispers, “Speed me up or slow me.”

Logan groans, a deep guttural sound as he uses his grip on James’ hips to control how he moves, says, “Fuck, I hate you,” as he pushes James back and pulls him back in, over and over, his arms burning with it. He knows he’s going to be sore tomorrow, but he doesn’t care, not with how fucking perfect this feels.

“Mmm, no, you don’t,” James says matter-of-factly, grazing his teeth down the side of Logan’s neck. He slides his hand up Logan’s chest, brushes the tips of his fingers back and forth over a nipple, mouths at the side of Logan’s neck until Logan’s crying out, begging James to touch him, a litany of, “James, please, fuck,” over and over and over.

James’ arm tightens around Logan’s chest, his other hand wrapping around Logan’s cock, stroking in a broken rhythm, thumb slipping over the head, pre-come easing the slide. He barely gets in a few strokes before Logan’s coming, head thrown back against James’ shoulder as he shudders and gasps through it.

Logan’s grip on James’ hips eases up and he slumps forward, nearly faceplanting into the mattress. James eases him back down to his hands and knees, holds tight to Logan’s hips as he fucks in quick and hard, coming seconds later with his own drawn out moan, chest heaving as his hips still.

“Fuck,” he says when he finally catches his breath, easing out of Logan and removing the condom, tying it shut and throwing it in the direction of the wastebasket.

James curls up on his side next to where Logan’s dropped down onto his stomach, runs a soothing hand down Logan’s back until Logan turns to face him, face flushed and hair sticking to his forehead. “You good?” he asks quietly, lightly massaging the back of Logan’s neck.

Logan nods, stretches his arms with a contented sigh and curls up facing James, eyes opening and closing slowly.

“You’re gonna kill me one of these days,” James says with a smile, belatedly realizing he still has some of Logan’s come drying on his hand.

“It’s all part of my plan,” Logan says, and he sounds so tired and blissed out that James decides they can worry about clean up in the morning.

James laughs softly, places a kiss to Logan’s forehead and pulls the covers over them, grateful Logan’s blankets are all bunched at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, Logan?” James says after a minute.

“Hm?” Logan replies, already half asleep.

“What’re you gonna do if that song becomes a single? If we have to perform it live?”

Logan lets out a throaty growl, and yeah, okay, James hopes a little – a lot – that they get to perform it live because he could definitely get used to this.


End file.
